Apocalypse
by juliakri
Summary: The outbreak has happened, and the panic has gotten real. The apocalypse of the humanity is close, and the dangerous virus that was unleashed by a potion is ricocheting all over Britain. The society is falling apart. And if that wasn't enough for him to deal with; he was forced to do anything for a cure, with Granger as the only help.
1. Intoxicated

**Author's note:** Okay, so this has been my dream. Honestly, I've been dreaming of writing _**this**_ fanfiction like... for months. I really have high expectations for me, myself and my fantasy. I just hope that Ill live up to them.

Let's see... Yes. I'd like to make this fiction easy to read and understand, at the same time as I'm going to try new terms and words to have a development in my language. I'd also like you to tell me if there is something that I can do better, because I really want this to have results. :)

And yeah... One more thing before we start the journey. This time I want to point out that this will not be a fluffy fic like **Forbidden**, since I have already written one of that sort, and my main goal in this one is to keep the characters realistic and the whole progression between Hermione and Draco realistic and slow.

And of course, in advance, my apologies if there will be any mistakes regarding characters and stuff. Just tell me, and I will try my best to righten them up.

The whole story plot is 3 years Post- Hogwarts.

Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Everything regarding **Apocalypse **is not mine stuff. It all belongs to **J. K. Rowling**. Perhaps, maybe the words "fan" and "fiction" will tell you the rest of this story, and Ill start with my fictional one.

* * *

**Apocalypse**

**XxX**

**Intoxicated**

**XxX**

The Ministry was always crowded and busy.

This was of course not entirely news to the laborers, but it was never less surprising how many people the corridors could handle without falling into one, massive devastation. Briefly said: the flux of people was immense.

Wizards and witches were constantly zipping from one department to another like busy ants, unwittingly bumping into each other and the walls that held the ancient construction of the Ministry. Most of them were totally obscured behind important documents and papers, while others were simply trying to push their way through the crowd to get either in or out from the mass of people. Sometimes it worked, while other times...

Well, let's just say that it would take a while to reach your destination.

You could especially see this working ecstasy on Mondays, when the weekend had reached its end and there were bunches of work to get done before Monday had become Friday again. People had just slept off the exhaustion they had been going through the week, and new tasks were already awaiting them on their desks with patience.

The head's in every department expected these tasks to be done as soon as possible, which meant that the beginning of the week was the most vivacious day. You really had to keep your sanity as a priority to get pass the long day without losing it somewhere down the road.

This ecstasy, if that is the right way to call it, could also be seen among the reporters in the main office of " _The Daily Prophet'', _located on the south side of Diagon Alley. The reporters from all over the Wizarding Britain were trying to pull out content to publish in the new outcast before they rushed in the door to write an article about the newest, and the most fresh developments. For instance, there has been rumors about Neville Longbottom proposing to the former Hufflepuff- member Hannah Abbott.

Or maybe someone would get the opportunity to write an article about the quidditch match between Bulgaria and Wales this weekend, where two wizards were sent away to St. Mungo's hospital after horrendous injuries. A terrifying scene in front of everyones eyes.

The press used most of the time to write small, daily- things like that, just to have some content filled on all the pages.

Of course there were exceptions as in everywhere, where bigger and more influential things would come out on the front page making people both gasp and gossip, but then again: there has not been any of that stuff in weeks. That was because the society was pretty much the same every day. Long, boring days, where everything that was colorful in reality seemed to be in a scale between black and white.

But then the tabloids were experiencing that frankly, people were pretty much too busy to have a requirement of the spuriously, meddlesome tabloids anyway.

No, the population had decided that there were other things that counted in their pitiable lives.

People were beginning to get busy and desperate after with finding the other half, their '' one, true soul mate_''_, as many chose to call it. And that meant everyone who had participated in the war, who had found that the result of time and awaiting had healed the deep wounds of square holes, and that they were now ready to fill these ordered holes with content and meaning, proverbial round pegs that could heal the rest.

Well, sure a lot of time had passed since the death of every Voldemort sympathizer, and no one could deny that a lot had already found themselves recovering quite quickly.

Harry Potter himself, for instance, was a proud husband with Ginevra Potter as his wife, even though that many could say with a hand on their heart that he was the one suffering the most during the hectic time of the war. No one understood how a boy with such a strong and cruel faith as Harry Potter could recuperate in just an year or so, but then there was this thing that many chose to disregard: it was all in his nature by birth. To fall into the darkest deepness, and then jump out of there into the highest clouds of light. It was all indents in a biography, and time by time it happened by itself.

Many would actually begrudge his capability of doing so in silence, by deafening the part of their tongue that broiled to admit their envy, but it was all naturally.

Through all, Harry Potter was a man to envy from the day his name was known, and that would probably never change.

Oh well, now as the truth is about to be spoken, there _was _actually one man who had this same, equal capability as Harry, only hiding it behind this frigid surface...

Draco Malfoy. The complete inverse to Harry Potter in so many ways. He was, and is the son of Lucius Malfoy who was mostly known as the former Death Eater and a dangerous man. Besides, he was something like a loyal Death Eater himself, a nuisance when it came to the word '' females'', and not just that... his name was the name of the perfidy to anything that could be seen as the good at the time of the war.

After the war, many chose to elide these small characteristics of him, giving the young boy a second chance to establish his life.

And Merlin, yes. He grabbed it with open hands.

Well, the half of him. The other half... remained identical.

* * *

The heavy doors that led into the section of '' _The Daily Prophet_'' flew open, and a dark silhouette entered it with a deep, aweary frown upon his face. It deepened even more when one of the wizards that were roaming around the desks almost crashed into his portmanteau, seeming agitated. The wizard muttered something like a gloomy apology over his shoulder, and you could have chilled bear to the expression on the blondes face now.

'' There we have the emotionally unbalanced prat. Right.'', he personally reminded himself in a low, capernoited voice, while passing a young female reporter.

However, he felt much more enthusiastic when he saw the green dress that the well-shaped girl was wearing today. It seemed to make up for everything that had been trashing his guts this morning, and he had to force himself to lift the corner of his lip when he noticed how people had begun to acknowledge his presence.

" Good morning, Mr. Malfoy.", a woman from the left side shot in.

_There we go. Act and pretend to be happy, _he mentally muttered, feeling how the quick energy shot up his spine like a coffee shock. The blonde wizard spun on his heel while walking backwards through the straight corridor in the middle, winking attractively towards the brunette that had just raised to acknowledge his presence. He was doing the thing that he was best in doing.

'' Good morning, Helena. You look enchanting as always, I must say.''

The young witches face became an innocent, unbalanced, rosy- colored expression, and she fell back into her office chair while nibbling her lip, turning back to the thing she was engaged in before she was interrupted.

With some people passed behind him, he continued walking down the corridor in the middle of the redaction with refined steps, keeping the curse directly towards the Editor's office.

He hoped to avoid the rest of the incredibly annoying ''good mornings'' until tomorrow, but he knew this would be a very hard task to accomplish, because the reporters who had eyes and fundamental senses had noticed the shining, outstanding figure by now.

Whispers and small chuckles were coming from the group of girls that were sitting around the desk on the left side, eying this particular wizard with curiosity, and more than just that, and people that wanted to take a peek on their star reporter were snapping their heads up from their work, stopping the production of whatever they were into.

'' Oh Draco, my dear!'', a familiar voice said, and Draco was stopped by a female arm appearing in front of him from nowhere. '' Glad to see me?''

He whisked his head upwards to meet a pair of green eyes that were buried deeply into his, and shivered when he recognized the eerie woman beside him. She provided him with a secure smile, and in this combination of new and old features Draco immidiately noticed the new hairstyle that the female reporter was testing out. The usually blonde curls were smoothed out, and were hanging loosely down along her jawline. He considered answering by a rapid, charismatic compliment, but then reminded himself that Skeeter was Skeeter.

She was curious, and seemed to need an executed conversation.

'' Rita.'', he smirked. '' Long time, no see. Where have you been?''

'' In Paris, of course! There were some interesting cases going on there, and Cuffe trusted me to check it out.'', she boasted, pulling up the glasses up her nose with her red-polished index finger.

Of course he should have known that without having to ask, when Cuffe had chattered his ears off about the cases going on in the middle Europe for days, but maybe the issue was that Draco's head was already overfilled with other information. Through all, there was always a threshold for how much a human brain could handle, especially a poor male's brain, and Draco could surely admit that his margin was reached.

'' Anything that could come us good in use on the front page?'', he asked anyway.

Rita shook her head in a decisive manner. '' Sadly, it's not worth our front page. Neither my time. Even a woman as great as me must have a break! Silly boy, do you honestly think that I would dig for treasures for the tabloids when I'm in the middle of Paris?''

'' No.'', Draco decided with a frown. '' I suppose I should have known that you wouldn't.''

The blonde woman gave him an approving grin, swiftly swinging her hips to walk in the direction where he had came from. And somehow, she still managed to throw a sentence over her shoulder before she left. '' Well, I trust you to not do the same mistake next time. Greet your mother from me!''

'' I will.''

Draco chewed on their odd conversation for a second, before he continued walking, and not even a second had passed before he was stopped again.

" Mr. Malfoy, I would like you to sign this.", a voice behind his left ear said, as a paper was reached out in front of him. He took hold of it while his eyes scanned down the lines, cocking an eyebrow towards the wizard, who was just as agitated as everyone else. For Merlin's sake, the man looked like a foolish, paranoid house- elf.

Draco was more than just impatient, and decided the best would be to get this done as soon as possible. '' What's this?''

The wizard blinked. '' A permission to publish some pictures taken by an unknown witness this weekend, Sir.''

'' I simply won't handle another-'', he began tiredly, while signing under a contract stretched out in front of him by an arm from the right side. '' - bunch of pictures taken by some sick, nature- crazy psychopath. Tell him to publish it elsewhere.''

The wizard's eyes grew in size. '' But Mr. Malfoy, this has nothing with nature to do. This may be our chance to finally publish something that people would not mind to read. Something big! I mean, look!''

The wizard's strong elation was rewarded with a pinched, annoyed look from the younger Malfoy, and Draco soon decided for himself that this stranger was not worth his time. '' I'm just a reporter for Godric's sake, not the bloody editor. Talk to Cuffe about it.''

'' But Mr. Mal-''

'' Talk to Cuffe about it!'', he boomed over his shoulder, feeling how a painful headache was beginning to appear in the front of his temporal already.

* * *

By the time his hand had reached the door handle of the Editor's office, he had managed to put his signature under four important contracts, revised three articles where two of them were about the selfsame topic and he had to decide which one suited the topic best, complimented the new dress that Braithwaite was wearing, and fired the coffee- retriever that he had hired the last week, because the over- energetic woman had managed to spill coffee over his black leather gloves.

It was not the fact that they cost a fortune that annoyed him. Money was not a problem at all. It had never been. He had no problems buying a quantity of gloves right away. Yes, he was a rich, little bastard, and was not ashamed of admitting so.

No, the poser was her laughter that followed the incident. That ugly sort of laughter that could remind of a train steering out of orbit. It would have actually been amusing to hear if it wasn't for the circumstances, but Draco just couldn't stand people who laughed without reason. Especially not on others chagrin.

She was lucky being a woman. Or else her face would have apparently looked much worse than it had when she had stumbled out the front door.

Well, it was not a big loss. She had been too cheerful for his taste anyway.

'' Ah, good morning Draco.'', the Editor said as the office door flew open. '' I have been expecting you, yes.''

The pale wizard flung the black topcoat he had worn that chilly September morning over the armchair that stood next to the door, doing the same with the portmanteau. But the one thing he had forgot when doing this in anger was the pair of dirty, coffee- covered gloves he was holding, and he accidentally smacked them against his white shirt when he bent down to lift the fallen portmanteau up.

There was now a haggish, brown spot in the middle.

'' For Godric's sake!'', he spat out, forgetting all about the elder wizard watching him deliberately. It was just when he had swore three times and threw his gloves on his coat that he remembered the company of his boss.

The Editor's glasses were resting on the tip of his nose, and he was intently studying Draco while muttering something. " You look horrible. Are you okay?''

'' I'm fine.'', he sniffed in a manner of displeasure, sitting down on the chair in front of Cuffe's desk. He felt how his shirt had glued itself onto his stomach.

'' Alright.'', the other wizard sighed in retreat, resting his elbows on edge of the desk.

It had apparently came to him that this '' good and kind'' - sort of talking was not affecting Draco's mood in a pleasant way, rather the opposite, and that's why he proceeded.

And he was absolutely right in doing so.

'' I saw you talking to Rita. Was there anything useful down in Paris, or was the time she used there futile?'', Cuffe asked.

Draco snorted. '' Futile must be the word. The woman did nothing.''

Barnabas slammed his palm against the desk, and Draco quickly managed to grab hold of the papers that had been affected by the displaced air. '' I knew she would defraud us soon or later! Dear Godric, we need sources and content to make people wake up, and when there is an opportunity she wastes it. I didn't expect that from her. Her, of all!''

The young reporter nodded,. '' Well, she has changed. The good- working morals are as good as flushed away the last weeks.''

Genuinely, he never thought he would have to say those words loud. Rita and work were the two things that were always associated with each other when talking of Skeeter generally. It was her and the poison pen together. For Merlin's sake, the woman never seemed to take a break even when it was rationale!There were plenty of witnesses on her strong, indestructible desire to make a story, a plot, and many would agree on her sanctifying her life to the Prophet, but now it just seemed like she had lost her enthusiasm as many others.

'' Ah, but then there is this thing that I always seem to forget. She is getting older too, Draco. Just as everyone else. Even the charismatic Rita Skeeter can't trick the nature laws residing over us all.'', Barnabas said with a sad smile and a hazy gaze.

Draco nodded, mentally knowing that the age was not the problem. He knew a little part of what Rita was experiencing through their conversations with his mother. He had overheard some of them, and knew that blaming her would be a sin.

Through all, she was just a human being, and if the society was falling apart in melancholy and depression than she would not use her efforts to get it back on track. She understood that only her efforts wouldn't help anyway, and decided to take a break as well.

Barnabas cleaned his throat, before he proceeded. '' You know, I_ was_ actually planning to give you the assignment. But then I thought it seemed like you had a lot to handle. My apologies, I hope I am not being offensive in any way.''

Draco offered the old man a smirk. '' Trust me when I tell you that I'm not offended. Your resolution was the right one. I really have been stuck somewhere between two worlds for a while, as many others. I mean, I didn't even know that my wife's sister was pregnant until yesterday. It appeared that she had been pregnant in a whole month, and I found out just now.''

Cuffe's eyes grew in size. '' Daphne? Oh, young Daphne! Tell her that we, I mean me and my family, are congratulating and wishing her all the best.''

'' I will, if it keeps stuck in my fatuous mind until the next time Ill get an opportunity to see her.'', Draco smiled under heavy lashes, mentally chuckling from the thought of him getting senile.

Barnabas took hold of the porcelain cup that was placed on his desk, taking a sip of something that seemed to be black coffee. He offered Draco a cup who politely declined, before he continued the conversation. '' While speaking of your wife... How is Astoria doing?''

'' Good. Good.'', Draco replied quickly, licking his lower lip to stop it from gritting onto his upper. '' She had this alleviative vacation to Spain together with Daphne this week, returning yesterday, when they broke the big news out to me.''

Barnabas nodded. '' Well, is she having any of her charity seminars in the nearest future?''

Draco took some time to think, even thought the temporary senility was hissing about its existence again. '' Not as I am informed of. But then there is this thing about her... She is independent, and doesn't seem to have any need to enlighten me. And Ill have to inform that I'm not really complaining.''

'' I recall something like that, yes.'', the old man chuckled, choking on the hot coffee that had apparently gotten stuck on its way down his throat.

Draco watched him with grey, severe eyes, considering to help the old man breathing, but before he could even make the decision to do so, the man had placed the cup of coffee down and was rummaging through some papers.

Thank Godric for that, because helping others was simply not in Draco Malfoy's nature.

'' Anyway, back to the reason for why you are here.'', the Editor said, squinting on the paper in front of him through his big glasses. Draco sat up on his chair, and rested his elbow on the desk before he took hold of the paper that the Editor had handed over. '' This is a medicinal report from the murder case going on here in Britain, in the periphery of London. The corpse was found yesterday-''

Draco frowned down at the paper. '' London? But I can't recall any cases-''

'' You couldn't have known, because it was never published.'', the Editor noted, pointing a proud finger towards the paper. '' This information is in our hands only. No other tabloid has got the same sources as us. We must use them wisely.''

'' Do you mean that we are the first ones?''

'' The _only _ones, Draco.'', Cuffe drawled, abruptly snapping the papers out from his hand again, waving them up in the air. '' We are the only ones who has enough information to be able to publish a complete article.''

Draco cocked an eyebrow while he adjusted his black suit jacket to cover the coffee speck. '' So what you are saying, is that there has been a murder, and no other tabloid was there right on the spot? I mean, the Quibbler's reporters are quite fast-''

'' The zone is quarantined. They just didn't have access.''

Barnabas cleaned his throat, and his eyes roamed nervously around the small location of his office. Draco couldn't help to notice that his jaw was being clenched, and the old man was biting on his lower lip in a deep concentration, as if he was trying to decide what to tell and what better not to. He had seen this before, and the only thing it could mean was that this case could be an outbreak for them all. If the right facts got out.

A solution to their shortage of content.

After a while the elder man stood up with his hands folded behind his back, beginning to wander around the office. '' You see, Draco, I have read the report myself. The young victim was intoxicated. It is no sort of potion that we have heard of, so the murderer must have accessed another row of ingredients.''

Draco chewed down the bubbling curiosity, and decided to take one thing at a time. '' A potion? But how is it that the zone is in quarantine because of a potion?''

'' But my dear, a potion can be many things if you know how to make one. I thought your father warned you about paying attention during the potion classes.'', Cuffe scolded as he looked Draco in the eyes. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him, and luckily there were no other comments coming from his boss. '' According to the report, the corpse had been just some hours old, and was already a complete decay. It looked like it had been dead for at least a week or so. The corpse was a green deadwood. There were black spots over his body, and the blood...''

The wizard stopped to look Draco in the eyes again, this time with an indescribable expression on his face. There was no amusement, neither sorrow or anxiety to find. There was just this typical severe expression that one used when giving a lecture, or trying to knock sense into something.

'' What?'', Draco asked carefully. '' Had the blood been tapped out of him?''

'' No, no. No such thing as that.'', the Editor assured, stopping in front of the window that led down to the Diagon Alley. '' The investigation says that his own bloodstream had built up those spots, and somehow... every single drop of his blood had gathered in them. Like a warehouse, you know. It's-''

Draco shivered from thought of it. '' Are you telling me that the potion had affected the bloodstream into building a sort of pestilence?''

'' Yes.'' The wizard nodded carefully while looking emptily out the window, and Draco thought he noticed his shoulders to sink. '' I want you to read the report yourself and enter into the depth of this case. If we follow from the beginning, it might be easier to publish something unique that will make a change to our society.''

Draco's brows snapped together. '' But that means that I will have to write an article-''

'' It certainly does, and I don't see the problem. You have written articles before, haven't you?''

Barnabas didn't see the problem, but Draco undoubtedly did. He had never deepened himself into the darkest depth of a case, and the thought of having the opportunity here and now in front of him was admittedly shocking. He had never thought of himself as anything else than a simple reporter, even thought that he knew very well that the reviews of his articles had been beyond excellent.

He always saw at it as luck and perhaps maybe a result of his superior, but maybe there _was_ something more to it.

'' I don't know if this is a good idea. I mean yes, I won't deny that I am seen upon as a worthy reporter by the population, but-''

'' Draco, you _have_ proven yourself worthy enough of times. Your articles are flawless!'', the Editor tried to prove. '' The wizarding Britain keeps on buying the Prophet because of the things you and Skeeter write. You are influential. Elsewhere, the Quibbler would have ousted us.''

'' I guess old Mr. Lovegood just don't lose any time.'', the blonde shrugged.

Barnabas spun around to face the young Malfoy. '' He doesn't, and if we don't act quick he will find out. So what will it be?''

Draco pondered on his possibility for a second, and there were no doubts of course. It was an ultimatum, and Draco would certainly take the way where he could find some advantage. '' Ill handle it. Just give me something to work with, and I certainly will.''

Cuffe's old smile stretched out over his face. '' I will have the report delivered to your desk immediately.''

Draco nodded thoughtfully, and stood up from his chair. He quickly maneuvered his hands up the buttons of his black suit jacket, buttoning it up to hide the big, inconvenient, coffee spot on his shirt, and walked towards his portmanteau and coat to leave for his desk. This time he took solicitude of his gloves that had dried during their conversation, and bent down to take hold of his leather portmanteau.

And just when he was about to leave the office, there was a voice from behind that stopped him.

'' One last thing before you leave.''

Draco turned around with an waiting frown.

'' I would like you to take an interview of the auror leading this case.'', Cuffe announced, peering down at a paper that laid on his desk. '' Ah, the name, of course. Here it is.''

Cuffee looked up from the paper and eyed the reporter through his glasses. ''Her name is Hermione Granger.''

* * *

**Chapter comments:**

I hope you have been enjoying so far, and that this hooked you up! I'd love to hear that you would like to follow the journey. No really, I _really_ hope you do!

I promise ( well yes, Ill try my best to keep my promises.) you a journey full of interesting events, and interesting relationships between the characters. And hopefully something that is worth to use your time on.

And oh, there is this small thing: I might come in and edit something later, so I hope you won't be confused.

Read & review!

With love,

- Juliakri


	2. Beauty

**Apocalypse**

**XxX**

**Beauty**

Draco frowned down at the chaos that surrounded his desk this morning. If there was one thing that could be defined as a '' rubbish dump'', than his desk would definitely fit in there the way it looked now.

There were innumerable of despaired attempts on white paper- planes scattered on the left side of it, empty porcelain coffee- cups on the right, and in the middle there were papers. Yes, all sorts of papers. Newspapers, articles from earlier editions of the Prophet, multiple drafts, reports, notes, letters, leather maps, and then there were those nauseating cards from his sympathizers that mostly contained descriptions of how much they worshiped him.

It was of course not entirely a rare occasion that a famous and successful reporter received gifts and letters from the readers that admired their work. But as in everywhere, Draco thought there had to be a place when something overstepped the mark: and when there were uncountable of envelopes delivered to his desk _daily_, than an emergency bell rang somewhere in the back of his head.

It was in fact very fluttering, but annoying as hell.

And it was not that he had really taken the time to read any of them...

When he took another look at his desk, he mentally had to admit himself that trying to sort things out on the desk would be pretty much pointless. Surely it would take him only several minutes, but Draco was pretty much too bothered to take care of it, even thought he was an accurate person by birth.

By the way the location looked right now it seemed like everyone else saw it the same way. The desk would look just the same the day after, because there was never an ending to the amount of papers traveling all over the desks in the location, and the desk was the only place where it was possible to hoard the bunches of papers.

''_ Wasted time and energy, but burned calories._'', as Goyle used to state while chewing frequently on a huge piece of cake.

Another reason for why people never bothered by cleaning was because people kept on leaving their stuff like unfinished articles on other's desks.

In most of the occasions there was no one who seemed to miss the article, and the lucky one who found this foreign object among his work crushed it into a tiny ball and threw it in the bin. But sometimes there were these much more enthusiastic people that all of a sudden shot up from their chairs like someone had stuck a knife in their back, and decided to do a rigorous search.

There was always one or another among the crowd who raised from the chair and held up the missing article, and it always showed up that no one had brought it there.

It was the owner itself that had rambled around the location and at one point forgotten to bring the belongings with him.

And yet, through all these thoughts, there was one that really bothered him. The thought of Hermione Granger. The girl that he had taunted for seven years non- stop at Hogwarts, and frankly couldn't wait to get rid of. And now as he was almost certain that she had disappeared for a long time ago, she was back into his periphery, taunting his mind from distance.

He had heard from Ginny Weasley, their senior Quidditch correspondent, that Granger had moved to Bulgaria a year post the war. Merlin did he know what had sucked her in there, but it was presently known that after the massive break up with Ronald Weasley that took all the tabloids attention, she had found back the fixation with Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker. She had then decided to leave London behind her, only keeping up her contact with the Weasleys and Potters.

And now it seemed like she was back. Back in London.

_Back to finish him off..._

'' Hey, Drake.''

Draco turned his head, and saw how Blaise Zabini was watching him from his office chair beside Draco's desk. He looked much less exhausted this morning, actually quite awaken, with eyes that did not contain a blank or dark blur as they usually did Monday mornings. For a moment he actually reminded Draco of a dwarf, the sort of dwarf that had been seen around the wizards recently. It was not another type of house elves, no. They were _dwarfs, _with a remarkable amount of energy and an enthusiasm that no house elf could ever be taught up to contain.

Nevertheless, he pushed the thought somewhere back, and sat down into his own chair. Rather, he _adjusted_ himself on the office chair with a straight-backed formality that he had probably acquired through some expensive deportment lessons his father had forced him to attend.

Or perhaps, maybe he didn't need them, because it was already built into his DNA by birth.

'' Zabini.'', Draco said as he cocked a golden eyebrow. '' You seem thrilled. Please don't tell me that you have been wandering around the desks like those pricks over there in that expensive suit that you are wearing.''

Blaise smirked. '' What, are you jealous?''

'' Jealous? Hardly.'', Draco snorted with a grin on his face. '' I can afford a suit with a price twice the one that you are wearing.''

The dark wizard rolled his eyes. '' How predictable.''

Blaise arranged his hands on his knee, where he left them to rest, and watched his blonde friend with a sifted gaze. Draco could feel by his inner guts that the man in front of him was scanning his countenance and body in one, and narrowed his eyes into a strict but steady gaze.

He was a man who was more than vocational to hide his emotions and thoughts from others without the necessity of an occlumency or acting. His surface was cold enough to hide the most of it by itself, and yet he always felt like the ones who studied him attentional enough could see his anatomy and emotions straight through. He always reminded himself that this was his intellection and queer ideas, but he still kept attentive. Especially when it came to his closest relations.

Perhaps, maybe he _was _predictable towards the ones that had known him for a while.

'' Anyway, where have you been? I thought you would show up earlier today. At least that was what you promised yourself Friday evening after a couple of fire whiskeys.'', Blaise asked after a break.

Draco rolled his eyes. '' Believe me when I tell you that I really tried. Haven't you seen the ecstasy that developed in the mid corridor earlier this morning?''

'' I did. How is that?''

'' As if you don't know.'', the young Malfoy sighed. '' Those bloody prats keeps on thinking that I'm the bloody editor or something. No honestly, I think they are all misinformed.'' He took a break to sigh again. '' I'm almost certain that if Cuffee would come into a predicament like this he would have experienced a heart attack.''

The dark wizard laughed out. '' I don't really believe that our dear, old Cuffee could harm anyone. Not even a fly.''

'' My reminiscence tells me otherwise.'', Draco murmured.

Blaise's eyes were sparkling. He immediately sputtered out like a fountain, and his friend gave him an aversive look. '' What, did he dash your bullocks or something?''

Draco's face remained deadpanned, with only a severe frown as an indication to his emotion. '' How very mature of you, Zabini. You haven't really grown up since the first year of Hogwarts, have you?''

'' Oh, come on! Don't be such a party popper.'', Blaise exclaimed.

Draco's frown deepened even more when he saw how tears were running down his friend's cheeks. He couldn't reckon any time earlier when who he called his '' mature friend'' had laughed that much. It was like a scintillating bird with tremendous voice problems, and it didn't really help Draco to alleviate his head ache.

Well, actually he did remember a time in the Slytherin common room, where his whole gang had gathered together on the green couches and were reading the latest edition of the Prophet. Pansy had made them all a couple of potions, and even that time it was secretly known that Pansy Parkinson was a professional. She didn't show off her skills in potion classes, though, but the talent was definitely there.

That was in the middle of the sixth year, where the tension of the dark was beginning to build itself up with a steady scale, and many had lost the capability of laughing, or even smiling. Draco was one of them as well, but he remembered how they had all laughed so loudly that even professor Snape, who had gone to bed earlier that evening, came in and decided to accuse them with a barking voice.

That did of course not help to sustain their laugh, but only made it worse.

Blaise laughed out once more while he wiped at his eyes with his index finger, but the laugh was soon followed by a severe look. '' Rough night again, wasn't it?''

Draco handled the comment with light surprise. '' Am I that predictable?''

Zabini leaned forward in his chair, and narrowed his eyes into sprinkles. '' I simply guessed. Merlin knows what's going on inside your brain usually, Draco, but some things are just easy to guess on. Probably because that has been your problem for a while.''

Draco sighed, and leaned back into his chair. " You are now going to pretend being what muggles calls a psychiatrist, aren't you?"

" It's Astoria again.", Blaise stated, ignoring the rude comment.

Draco sat up into his chair. '' Just sod it, Bl-''

'' No, I won't sod it.'', Blaise replied sternly and determined. '' This has been bothering you for a while, Draco. I wouldn't wrap this up if it wasn't for your own good. Come on man, let's just get out and over with it.''

Draco looked away from his friend, and his searching gaze. There was something very queer about the feeling he had, but something definitely told him to keep as far away from his intimate topics as it was possible. It wasn't that he didn't trust Blaise, or tried to hide himself from his best mate. Neither did he think that these facts could be used against him in any way, but perhaps, maybe it was the thing he had been taught up to during his sentence as a Death Eater.

The taught up capability to always be on guard, and never spread information never left him alone.

'' So?'', Blaise asked after a while, playing with his thumbs. '' What happened between you two this time?''

Draco narrowed his eyes. '' Is this an interrogation?''

'' No.'', Blaise denied, while shaking his head. '' This is simply a friendly conversation.''

Draco burrowed his teeth into the tip of his tongue, and frowned against his friend.

'' Look, I know it bothers you.'' Blaise offered him a friendly look. '' We both knew that the state when you two experience marriage problems would come, but it won't help to lock yourself-''

'' I'm fine, Zabini.'', Draco sighed. '' There is nothing _bothering _me-''

'' Right.'' Now it was Blaise's turn to sigh, and narrow his eyes. He leaned forward towards Draco. '' You have been sleeping in your study again, haven't you?''

'' Yes.'', the young Malfoy admitted without thinking it through. '' But that was only-''

'' There you see.'', Blaise nodded with such a proud voice that it made Draco want to smack him. '' I already know how it all transpired. Astoria began her nagging, and your rough Malfoy- temper didn't handle it. You realized that you were starting to blow up, and locked yourself into your study. And by your study I mean the one that is located on the other end of your dormitories, not the one beside your bedroom.''

The blonde scowled. '' What do you know about-''

Blaise shook him off. '' Than you grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey that stood hidden behind your books, because your wife forbid the alcohol in your house. And then you decided to stay there over the night, because adjusting yourself into one of the guest rooms would only make your conflict worse.''

The nerve in Draco's spine twitched nervously, but of course he didn't give the other man any indications of it being true. The worst part of it all was that it _was_ as close to the truth as it was possible to get it without being a witness, and it sort of freaked Draco out. Of course there were also other things troubling him. Yet, he knew very well that he was the master of hiding emotions, and decided that the most wise thing to do would be to deadpan.

He blinked calmly, and chuckled. '' You would have been a good author, Zab-''

'' Stop defending her.'', Blaise demanded. The dark wizard eyed him. '' Honestly, Draco. The woman is suffering from some horrendous mental prob-''

'' Enough.'', Draco hissed tiredly, letting his eyes roll down behind his eyelids. '' First of all, it is ordinary to defend family-''

'' Family, yes.'', Blaise nodded, as if he was trying to state a point there. '' I totally agree. It is normal. But is Astoria a worthy part of your family?''

'' Yes.'' Draco rolled his eyes. '' She is a part of me, which means my family as well.''

'' But do you _love_ her?''

'' Yes.'', Draco repeated. '' Zabini, I think I am more than capable to decide myself whether I do, or do _not..._''

Blaise threw his hands up in surrender and grudge, but it wasn't really Zabini's reaction that made Draco suddenly stop the thought of his arguments. He had them on the tip of his tongue, but there was not a sound coming out. Normally he would have only kept on arguing until his personal point was burrowed far down into his friend's head.

Well, this time it was different.

Before he could even think it over, his eyes slowly strayed over to a place just beneath Blaise's left shoulder. He focused on the mid corridor of their location, and watched emptily as something outstanding caught his eyes.

It wasn't really colorful or rare, no. That was not the occasion. Yet, there was something else about it.

When he looked closer, he could see an young female wearing a knee-long coat, with a color of dark maroon blue. The dark- blonde hair was curled up and jumped prettily around her neckline when she moved. It was half- bushy and half silky, as well as long, almost reaching her mid- waist. He also assumed that she wore high heels, as the sound of them merrily echoed through the location from wall to wall when she walked past the desks with an uncertain course.

It wasn't really occasional for women in the redaction to wear noisy high heels, because many would find it disturbing if women trudged around in those. Through all, people were engaged and inspired into their writing wanting to get it done, which meant that silence was a huge necessity. It took Draco only an instant to assume that the woman must have come from the Ministry.

'' Blaise,'', Draco nudged as he nodded towards the mid- corridor. '' Who is that?''

His friend turned around to face the mid corridor, and Draco could see how he stiffened. '' Merlin do I know, but the woman looks-''

'' Sexy.'', Draco stated blankly with a distant look on his face.

That was perhaps another thing that had never changed; the intense magnetizm towards the opposite sex. No matter how many times Astoria had tried to tame her husband and knock into him that to drool after other females once married was a sin, it never really helped him. He was indeed just a male, a poor male creature, not to mention that he was a very _attractive _male, and many females were striving for his attention, if only for an instant.

Blaise Zabini frowned as he looked back on his friend, and released a chuckle. " Well, I was going to say familiar, but sexy will probably do."

Draco dragged his teeth across his lower lip while he watched the woman talking to one of their reporters. He could see how she wrapped a curl around a pink finger even from this distance, and narrowed his eyes to amplify his surface. " Is it occasional for the Ministry to visit this part of Diagon Alley? I thought they were done with the visit routines."

" You know there is always something that brings them back to the Prophet. Perhaps, maybe another article that doesn't please the Ministry.", Blaise shrugged, turning fully back towards his friend.

Draco still held his silver eyes firm on the woman's body. '' But what brings _her _here? I mean, I thought Shacklebolt realized that bringing females here is a risk.''

Blaise offered him another odd look, and when Draco met his eyes he realized that he was lurching once again. The moment was followed by a mental slap for letting himself go off the track, and the attempt to cool his head. But then his friends face features became milder, and Draco thought he was trying to hide a smirk. '' So did I. Especially after the last time.''

Draco rolled the tip of his tongue over his upper lip in a pleased manner, and a flashback from the last time came to his mind. He couldn't say that he was fully sober that time. Neither could Blaise. But he also believed that being slightly drunk wasn't an excuse for checking out a girl publicly, especially not when it involved a fresh, golden ring on his ring finger.

Draco leaned forward on his chair with a playful grin. '' You know Zabini, Ill give you the chance this time. In fact, I believe that the leak of females will drive you crazy soon or later. It won't hurt you. Girls don't bite.'' He gave this a quick thought, and re- considered this. '' Well, of course there are exclusions as Molly Diggory, for instance, but that happened during our third round in the bed.''

The dark wizard's brows shot up. '' You really _are _disgusting. Godric, I still can't imagine how Astoria keeps up wi-''

'' Zabini?''

Their conversation was quickly interrupted by a female voice ringing from behind Blaise's office chair, and the young Malfoy whipped his head up to see the woman from the mid corridor stand beside Zabini.

'' I mean, Blaise Zabini?'', the stranger repeated with an amazed frown towards his friend. '' Blaise Zabini from Hogwarts. Am I right?''

Blaise sat up on his chair and gave the blonde a questioning look before he turned around towards the female. '' That's right. And I believe you went to Hogwarts as well?''

She nodded encouragingly. '' I did.''

Draco's aristocratic manners whispered to him that he should raise politely and present himself, but he quickly disregarded this. He marked that the young female had not noticed his presence yet and was busy by studying his friend, and decided that the best would be to avoid her for as long as it was possible. The short distance didn't make this quest easy of course, but at least he would keep a low profile.

He stole a last glance on the woman before he turned to his desk, finding the medicinal report miraculously laying on the desk in front of him. He took a quick hold of it, and turned to page one before dipping a feather in the glass of black ink.

It wasn't that he was suddenly shy or something, but only the mention of Hogwarts made him sick. The seven years that were wasted. The years that formed the bridge onto all the wrong decisions. The seven years of Hell of Earth. Only the thought of it made him feel sick, sort of unbalanced, like he was trying to walk steady on the board of a rocking ship during a storm. Of course he had not told anyone about this, but the pain tugged deep inside his stomach.

He had tried to run away from his past after the war, but the journey was hard. There were many new things. Like trust. Yes, trust must have been the most difficult of them all, to _trust. _The term was unfamiliar for him, but after a while he was forced to acknowledge that it still existed among some people. Only it took time. Because he saw each person as an enemy.

The thought of the Dark never left him. His father, his childhood, the Dark Mark, Voldemort...

'' My apologies, but I can't remember to have seen you in Hogwarts.'', he could hear Blaise exclaim through the conversation.

The female laughed. '' Oh, you certainly do. I'm Hermione Granger.''

Icing pricked down the Slytherin's spine, and he tried hard to focus on his handwriting. The feather suddenly felt heavy in his hand, and he tried hard to write the letter ''a'' in the elegant way that he had used to, but it was difficult as an immense stream of suppressed scenes from Hogwarts appeared before him. All the taunts, one after one, in such a speed that it made his eyes blurry. He breathed out to concentrate, but his neck betrayed him, and he couldn't help but looking up on _her _behind his blonde fringe.

" Oh yes, Miss Granger.", Blaise shot out. " I remember you. You were a member of Slug Club, weren't you?"

Fuck. The woman had _definitely_ changed since Hogwarts.

Yes, she had indeed gone through a _tremendous _change since the last time he had seen her. Last time it was bushy hair, no make up, fluffy sweaters and a pair of baggy jeans composed with a pair of old, dirty sneakers. Now it was mid waist hair in beautiful dark- blonde curls, light, natural make up, a beautiful dress of the Scandinavian style with a silver necklace embracing her chest, and a pair of elegant, black high heels.

He had probably expected her to be like the girl he couldn't stand in Hogwarts, but strike him over she had changed.

He decided that this change must have come when she had decided to subscribe to one of those many magazines that Astoria was so obsessed of. But of course her life in Bulgaria must have had a positive effect on her fashion senses as well. As he studied closer, he could see that this was well thought through and combined into an expensive outfit that looked like it cost a fortune, which it probably did as well. And yes, it was only now as the woman had chosen to get rid of the sweater that he could see the curves. The puberty did not have an effect on her appearance, but the years shortly after absolutely did.

There was no longer anything to complain about or point out. The woman was gifted.

" That is right.", she smiled.

" But aren't you supposed to be in Bulgaria?", Blaise asked with suspicion. " As far as I am concerned, you moved shortly after the war."

" Well, I have decided to return.", Hermione explained. " You see, I kind of missed London. Four years is a long time when regarding your home, and so I decided to return. I have only been here for four days, and Harry has already assigned me a case."

She stopped for a second, and Draco really wished she wouldn't do that, because now she had noticed his presence. He ignored her and continued writing on his paper, but he could still see her studying with his periphery view. Well, not actually studying. Only eying with a bored impression.

" Oh, and you must be Mr. Zabini's co- worker."

Draco cocked his head innocently to the side. There was no disgust or hatred in her eyes. Nor any displeasure or abhorrence. It seemed like his old childhood enemy did not recognize him, or had mistaken him for someone else. Had he really changed that much throughout the years?

Blaise shot up from his office chair. " Actually, he-"

" Actually, it is Blaise Zabini's _coffee_ _retriever_.", Draco dismissed sarcastically, pulling back his long, blonde fringe from his forehead with impatience.

But the witch seemed to ignore the sarcasm. Or rather, she did not notice it. She nodded shortly, and he recognized the manners that had him agitated during the years at Hogwarts. This look of high pride and superior. " Pleasure."

He resisted the urge to scowl at her. " The pleasure is on my side."

The silence that followed made Draco think, and what he thought was that this encounter would probably get the medal as one of the most awkward situations in his life. Well, surely the worst part lay ahead of him, when he would have to present himself officially and tell him the terrible truth about his real job. And then there was this interview that he would have to take without smashing his head in, but he tried not to think about it. At least not for now.

She turned back to Blaise. " Anyway..." She nibbled at her red lip for a second. " I have to go. Mr. Cuffe is expecting me, and I am late off already."

Blaise gave her a short nod. " It was nice to meet you again, Miss Granger."

She offered him a smile. " Feelings mutual, Zabini."

Draco eyed his friend while the dark wizard watched her leave for an unnecessary amount of seconds, before he sighed and fell back onto his chair. The woman moved smoothly between the many desks, the sway of her well- formed hips hidden behind her coat kept Draco's eyes trapped. Blaise turned to Draco, his dark eyes were even darker and all wide- eyed. Draco kept on holding his feather, but soon noticed that he was starting to bend it over, putting it back on his desk. It took him much effort to unclench his hand from around it, but as soon as he let go, he tightened it back into a fist, watching it turn white.

_"Oh, and you must be Mr. Zabini's co-worker..."_

Blaise shook his head. " Filthy, little mudblood, you said once."

" I can say it all over again.", Draco hissed through his teeth.

Blaise tilted his head to the side. " I thought you were done with the prejudices."

" I am.", he agreed. " But that doesn't mean that I'm not capable of throwing an insult or two in her address-"

" Well, I will have to disappoint you. You just called Hermione Granger _sexy_." Blaise let the word zing several times through Draco's mind. " That must be a development!"

" Shut the fuck up, Zabini.", he warned.

The blonde let his eyes roam around her location, before they returned to his friend, who looked amused. The wish to smack the smirk of his face until he bled took Draco with temptation, but he forced himself to keep calm. Blaise seemed to notice this, and quickly licked it off.

" I won't blame you, Drake. I'm more than certain that you never thought of the woman as Hermione Granger. She has changed." Blaise stopped, and cocked an eyebrow. " You know, I don't think she recognized you."

Draco nodded, and a chuckle came from the depth of his throat. " I'm sure she will have a heart attack when Ill brake the big news out to her. I had the thought of doing it in a civil manner, but then she called me your co- worker, and I forgot all about civility."

Blaise frowned. " The big news? About your real identity, you mean?"

He shook his head, and only the thought of her possible reaction amused him. " Cuffee gave me the assignment to interview her about the murder case that she is in charge of."

" Well, that's interesting.", Blaise exclaimed after a while. " And how do you plan on doing it without jumping over her throat?"

Draco took hold of the medicinal report, and slowly raised from his chair. He took another look around his desk to assure that there were no others important things he had forgotten about, and decided that the wisest thing to do would be to get over with the interview as soon as possible. He crouched behind and grabbed his tiny, black notebook from a shelf under his desk, before he stood up again and reached for a pen. He tried the ink on an empty piece of paper, and as soon as he was satisfied he turned back to his friend with a dirty smirk glued onto his face.

" Jumping over her throat in which way?"

Blaise rolled his eyes heavily. " Oh, but for Merlin's sake, Draco-"

Draco shook him off, and gave him a smile. " I'm leaving for Cuffee's office to get over with this. Do me a favor, and wish me good luck."

Draco turned on his heel and began walking towards the office, when an unnecessary amount of questions crossed his mind. One of them dominated over the others, and it bothered him most of all. Why did Cuffee choose him for this? Why not give Skeeter another chance to publish a breathtaking interview? It was in fact her favorite part of job, when she had the opportunity to interview and do her job at the same time as sucking out intimate facts from her victims.

Two birds with one stone.

By the time he had reached the door, he had rolled this thought around a thousand times in his mind, and decided that using his time for this was unnecessary and wasted. He would take this as always; with pride, tactic, a huge dash of self confidence, and just a small dash of elegance. He knocked three times at the black door that led to Cuffee's office for the second time this morning, and was rewarded with a male voice from inside.

" Come in!"

* * *

**Chapter comments:**

Yes, yes, I know! Very late update for you, you deserve better than this. But as I said on the last update of **Forbidden**, I have simply been busy when it comes to school and stuff. I have barely had any time for myself. But no, I won't complain.

I have tried to write as much as I can, and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)  
I believe earlier updates is one of the things that I can work on.

I would also like to thank my friend **Agatha **for all her support in this chapter, and all the tips that she has in mind for this fanfiction. This chapter is dedicated to you, **Agatha**! Thank you so much for reading this and walking it through.

And I would also like to take this opportunity to congratulate my friend, who unfortunately is not any Dramione- shipper(yet!).  
Happy birthday, Helena!

Well, I hope I have made this interesting so far. The best parts are still ahead!

With love,

- Juliakri


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